Broken sin
by Acedia the Apathetic
Summary: These are stories where Greedling is being angsty about how his friends are all dead, because what can you do but angst?
1. Chapter 1

The adreneline from fighting Wrath and leaving the rest of the homunculi had worn off. The thoughts had a bad habit of worming into the front of his mind while he was trying to get some sleep. What have I done? What kind of horrible person am I? He was my friend, and I killed him. What am I supposed to do now? Not to mention the memories, which were some ungodly combination of nostalgia, emotionally hurting, and actually physically hurting. God, he was so glad that the brat could only hear what he told him and what his body heard. If he knew what he was thinking, then he really would have no idea what to do. Being yelled at, he could handle. He was really used to it by now. But there was a decent chance that Ling would get the concerned type of upset, and right now, that might be more than he could take.

If he could just fall asleep, then everything would be fine. Homunculi didn't dream, they couldn't, but he expirenced the brat's dreams, and he had no influence on them. His guilt wouldn't affect the usual misty landscape at all. But he did control when his body fell asleep when he was in control, and he didn't see that happening any time soon. Damn it, right now he really wished that he knew how to switch off with the brat. He didn't have to feel this, he would probably fall asleep in five minutes even after all that had happened today! Like thinking about him had cause him to speak, Ling asked "Why are you shaking?"

Damn, he had noticed. He stayed silent, trying to control the shaking. It wasn't lying if he just didn't respond, right? Pull it together, he told himself. Stop being so weak. After maybe 10 minutes, Ling asked another question. "Are you alright?"

Silence. "No."

It came out a bit weaker than he had expected. Certainly a lot more shaky. "Oh."

Fuck, the concern phase was on. He already felt himself shaking a bit harder then before. Why did this had to happen? Wasn't this exactly what he had spent the last few hours of lying awake trying to avoid? If he started... Never mind. The possibility was too horrible to even think about. He couldn't let himself consider that it even existed, that his composure could slip up for even the fraction of a second it would take for it to happen, or else it might. That couldn't happen. He couldn't let himself be that weak.

Why can't I just fall asleep?

He buried his face in the sheets, thinking that maybe the brat would decide to leave him alone. He might, he thought. Maybe. He was just beginning to believe that he really wouldn't have any more interruptions in his futile attempts to sleep other than guilt and memories when Ling cut back into his consciousness.

"I'm sorry." What? What did Ling have to apologize for? He hadn't done anything, at least that he knew of. Was apologizing for nothing some weird new human thing he hadn't heard about?

"Why the fuck are you saying sorry? This is my fault." That was the only true thing that he could use as a response to that... Thing that he had just been told by Ling. He turned a bit. God, he was so confused. At least when he had been stuck guarding the tunnels for a week for no reason, he had known what was going on. This, this was completely outside the realm of likelihood.

"Do you have any sort of idea what empathy is?"

"Yeah, but... but you probably shouldn't waste it on me."

"It's not a waste."

"What?" Ling's voice was firmer than he usually heard it.

"I said, it's not a waste. You just killed someone you cared about and remembered your friends dying, and that your father doesn't actually care about you enough to not want you dead if you leave. You're taking this really well to have not dissolved into tears."

"I mean, that one's sorta because I'm not supposed to."

"What do you mean you're not supposed to?"

"... Forget it."

"No. If the only reason you're not crying is because of some self-imposed rule, then you probably need to."

Apparently, saying stupid things was popular now. Great.

"It's not self imposed."

"..."

"Father would get really angry at us if we really showed much emotion. Being sentimental is a human thing. We're perfect, emotions aren't, so showing any is making us weak. That's what he said, anyway."

"..."

"Prince?"

"...So he didn't let you show any emotion."

"No."

"..."

"Ling?"

"I have never wanted to stab someone more in my life."

There was a certain definitivity in his voice that made Greed actually believe that no, Ling wasn't exaggerating. He actually wanted to stab someone for what happened to him. _Him_ , the guy who had taken over his body and wasn't even the same species- the prince wanted to attempt to murder his father, who was more powerful to the point of it being suicide, over _him._

This could've been considered a new high in human stupidity or human empathy, but Greed didn't waste time thinking about it. He calmly got up, walked out of the building, and got to the highest point he could see.

He sat up there, and slowly opened up the emotional floodgates a bit.

Which is to say that he had a complete emotional breakdown outside on the roof of an abandoned building.

It involved crying, mostly, him digging his fingernails into his palms, letting what he actually felt seep through for once, tears and small amounts of blood turning to dust.

When he stopped crying, he started back inside. "Prince, if you ever talk about this for anything less than saving someone's life, I will murder you."

Ling sighed. If he physically could, he would probably hug Greed right now. God knows he needed it. Instead, he asked "Do you feel any better?"

"Why would I?"

"Well, after you cry, you usually feel better."

"Oh. Well, yeah, I sorta do."

It seemed that Ling's job was done for now. He'd let the prince rest.

He was surprised when Ling shoved him out of control and their body lost conciousness as soon as he was back in bed.

But not very.


	2. Chapter 2

He realized that he had been staring for at least half an hour.

Not doing anything, just staring. Staring at the ceiling, in bed.

It wasn't like it was especially interesting, even by the standards of ceilings. Just white. Uninterrupted, plain white. Not even a crack in the plaster.

He was still staring at it.

He tried to remember something. Their names, that was a place to start. The one he killed. Bido. The big guy, Lorah maybe, no, it wasn't that. Roa, that felt closer, Loa. That was it. The smaller guy, the one with the sword. Dor... Dorce... Dorcette. He remembered he had always thought it sounded a bit Cretan. The girl. Marta. He was pretty sure that was right. Maybe it wasn't. It wasn't. Her name was Martel.

Had been.

Same difference. They were dead in both.

The ceiling seemed worth his time again.

Ten minutes passed.

"Good morning."

The brat had apparently woken up. Greed didn't really care how they managed to wake up at different times and still fall asleep at the same time. There was probably something with sleep receptors involved, but he could care less about it. He really didn't care about anything at the moment.

"..."

"Greed, is everything okay? From a functional standpoint."

"Yeah."

"Why are we still in bed? When I wake up after you, we're usually somewhere different than where we were before. How long have you been awake?"

"Forty minutes, I think."

"Then why aren't we up?"

"I dunno. I'm just... y'know."

"No, I don't. Is this about your friends?"

"None of your buisness."

"If it's because of that, I understand. I could barely function after... a few days before my fourteenth birthday."

"What happened? Not like it's important, but it's better than the alternatives."

"The alternatives being?"

"Getting up and facing everyone or staring at the ceiling for a few more... whatever units of time you'd use, forty minutes was a bit of a conservitive estimate."

"What's wrong with getting up?"

"I might do something embaressing. Like, say, have a complete mental breakdown. Like last night."

"That isn't an excuse. Get out of bed."

"You can have the body for a bit. I'm just going to... yeah.. keep doing this for a bit until I feel up to talking to everyone."

"I should be more concerned right now. The phrase you can have the body for a bit is taking away weight from this."

Still, Ling took over their body, got up, took their hair down, (Greed hated having it loose even when he slept, for some reason. He said it made him look like a girl. Ling noticed that his creator, he certainly wasn't going to call him his father if he didn't, had said something about how it was too impractical and anyways it would look proper for _him_ to have it down. He wasn't good enough for the right to have it down. Dear God that thing had to die.) put it back up, and briefly considered changing clothes before remembering he didn't have clothes to change into or, because of everything that came off his body dissolved, need to change.

He left the room and entered the other, bigger room. Ed was the only one not up yet. He really had been in his room for a long time.

Darius looked up " 'morning."

"Good morning!"

Heinkel looked up from the infinite abyss that seemed to be contained in his coffee. "Hi Ling." He turned back to the abyss.

"How did you even get coffee?"

"Brought some. Keep instant packets in my bag."

Ling sat down. He was amazed that the furniture had held out so well after Gluttony bit a hole through the entire house. "Great. Good to know I'll have to deal with multiple creatures nature never intended this morning"

"Coffee isn't a creature, and it's made out of plants."

"I don't care. And it's instant coffee."

"Why does that matter? Anyways, can I assume you don't want any?"

Ling made a face. He had tried coffee once. He had completely agreed with Lan-Fan when she said it tasted like sheer, distilled failure.

"Yes."

Darius stared at him briefly. "Why did you get up so late?"

"He woke up before me-"

"What?"

"We wake up at different times for some reason, anyways, he's pretty upset over-"

Control was wrested from Ling.

"Shut the hell up! You said you wouldn't talk about it."

"I wasn't talking about it, I was just-"

"I don't know why I even talk to you. You're just an annoying little assho-"

"Could we maybe not do this right now Greed? Anyways, you said you would let me have control for-"

"That counts as talking about it. So maybe you could stop being an annoying asshole for five goddamn seconds."

"Fine."

Darius looked momentarily disturbed, before asking "So what were you going to say that you thought wasn't talking about the thing you weren't supposed to talk about?"

"He's really upset over remembering about his friends."

"Oh."

...

...

...

"What were they like?"

Greed took control again. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You sure? If you get it off your chest a little it might make you feel bet-"

Greed shot to his feet. "I _said_ I don't want to talk about it! Anyways, you're my possession now, so you have to do what I want! And right now, I want you to _shut the hell up_."

He sat down again.

Darius' mouth hung open for a few seconds. "So... I guess I don't bring that up?"

"What part of shut the hell up do you not understand? This is why I don't talk to hum-"

Ling took back control. "Greed, shut up. Now."

"If you have a problem with me you can talk to me about it when I'm done talking. Humans are weak, so there's no point in getting attached. That's all I was saying."

Darius looked quite a bit like he was trying not to freak out "Am I allowed to talk again?"

"Just a second. Apologize. ... Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do. .. Look, you can't just walk all over people, even if you are- no, no you can't. ... How would you do that? You said you couldn't. .. Fine what? Oh. Okay. Yeah. Good."

"Sorry."

Darius stared, as did Heinkel. Apparently what he'd heard had been enough for them to at the very least temporarily tear themselves away from coffee. The void soon drew Heinkel back to it, but Darius' resistence to it's allure was seemingly made of stronger stuff.

"It's fine."

"Good."

"Can I talk again now?"

"Yeah, 'kay."

"So, are you gonna eat something?"

"I'm good."

"What do you mean you're good?"

"Do you not know what-"

"I do. The question's usually redundant."

"I don't need to. I'm basically immortal, remember?"

"I didn't think it went that far."

A sudden tornado of gold and black swept into their midst.

"HeyI'mdownsorryifI'mlatewhereth'hell'sbreakfastdidyouasswipesnotmakeanythingthat'sreallyinconvinientbutanywaysgoodmorning. Hi Ling." Ed gave this sentence in much the same fashion of nonchalant lightspeed he gave his reports in when he slept in 'til about four thirty after returning from a mission. As none of them were part of the regulars of Chez Mustang business quarters, (Or, as people who weren't drunk at a bar with Olivier Armstrong that one time after training called it, Colonel Mustang's office,) they could make out maybe thirty five percent of the words.

"It's Greed. Anyways, do me a solid here kid, blow my head off or something so I can prove I'm immortal to them. If Heinkel finds it more interesting than his coffee."

"No." Ed said, peering over Heinkel's shoulder so he could see exactly what was so incredibly interesting about the chimera's cup of instant coffee. "And anyways, 'bout the coffee here, by the smell of it the coffee isn't half as good as the stuff they have at Eastern command. Can't really be much worse than the shit at Central, but low bar to clear there."

"I wasn't asking about the quality of the coffee. I haven't asked about it all damn morning, and everyone just keeps bringing it up. Is Heinkel's coffee really that much more interesting than a two hundred year old artificial human? The answer is no, in case you were wondering. No, it sure as hell isn't. The only thing even slightly interesting about the coffee is how Heinkel apparently is completely infatuated with it. Honestly, it's pathetic. Like, not you, the coffee. You're way too good for that coffee. But let's just stop paying any attention to the coffee, that's what it would want if it was alive. So, c'mon, just do it. It's hard to do it to yourself. I think."

"No. There's no way in hell I'm doing that. But yeah, he can survive that, and you'd prolly' barf all over your coffee slash lover if you watched him regenerate from it."

"Shut up."

"Why? Is the coffee girlfriend gag "your's" ? But seriously, watching your body regenerate is gross."

"Look, shrimp, I don't feel like talking to you right now."

This statement was punctuated by the type of death glare that said "If your short ass is stupid enough to not do what I say I will rip your automail off". The oddly specific type.

"Firstly," Ed flared his nostrils loudly before saying the next sentence. "I'm not short. You're all just freakishly tall. Second, I'm sorry for what happened."

Ling was quickly thrust into control.

Inside the safety of a place where nobody could see or hear him, where he actually looked normal inside his head, he stared vacantly at the swirling red.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

He definitely wasn't talking to anyone. He was just going to sit there until he felt like leaving. It was what he imagined death might be like if he could pull himself out anytime. What made them think they wanted to talk to him anyway? That was the exact opposite of what he had been made for. All he was supposed to be good for went against everything his stupidly golden eyed possession stood for, and the shrimp was nothing if not determined. At this rate he would be completely worthless soon.

He needed to go back to the nest. It would be alright if he could get there again.

Everything had to be alright or he was a failiure. Just like he said. And he would never let him be right about him after what he did.


End file.
